Her Ghost in the Fog: The Tale of Roanoke
by Jack0fHearts87
Summary: Tragedy befalls the English colony of Roanoke when they step too far over the bounds of persecution. Rated "M" for violence, language and strong adult themes.
1. She Was Divinity's Creature

_Author's Note:_

_This story is based off Cradle of Filth's song "Her Ghost in the Fog" from their album Midian. I placed it in the colony of Roanoke, in the year 1586. This story, as the rating belies, is NOT for children, or young teens._

_Thou hast been warned…_

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_I watched my love, Elizabeth, worry herself in front of her mirror. She needn't add to her beauty though: her lips were attuned to symmetry, set in a face that made the angels of God weep. Her dark-liquored eyes smiled invitingly to me, a porcelain finger calling me to her bed._

_She was my Queen of Snow, yet her body knew not the chill of Winter's grasp. Not until she was cut free of this world._

"Miss Elizabeth," the servant girl asked, "are you in need of something?"

Elizabeth stopped by the door, her night-cloak pulled tight around her silk dress. "I only require rue, Sara, which I shall pick myself. Moonlight is best for the health of the herb. I shall return before The Hour."

"Which hour, Milady?"

Elizabeth replied with a sly smile. "Witch Hour, indeed." She slipped quietly from the cabin, leaving the colony of Roanoke behind. She swept towards the woods, moving quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping forest.

The trees still clung to twilight, glowing softly with life and bringing a smile to Elizabeth's lips. As she knelt by a cedar tree to pick her medicinal herbs, she did not see five lanterns bouncing towards her in the distance.

A force struck the young woman to the grass. She cried out in surprise and fear as her basket of rue scattered across the forest floor. Weight pressed Elizabeth into the soft grass, a harsh lustful voice hissing in her ear, "If you scream, you're dead, bitch." A cold hand clamped over her mouth, while several more groped her body.

The men turned her on to her back, taking no care in doing so. A knife flashed in the dark. With the ragged sound of ripping fabric, Elizabeth's breasts were laid bare to the cold night air.

As coarse hands roughly grabbed at her, Elizabeth's bare body felt the light stings of falling snow. A cloth was shoved into her mouth, held with a second rag. _What grace has fallen from me? _She asked her gods.

"Where's yer magicks now, Witch?" the men jeered.

_Oh, Jacob,_ she thought as her tears froze upon her flawless cheeks, _where are you?_


	2. Dawn Discovered Her There

As dawn broke over the snow-covered colony, a lone figure meandered through the still sleeping cabins. Jacob slipped in to Elizabeth's home, being met only by a distraught servant girl.

"Sara," he asked in concern, "What troubles you?"

"It's Miss Elizabeth," the girl said meekly, "She has not returned from the forest."

"When did she say she would return?"

"At the witching hour; three-o-clock last night."

James ran quickly from the cabin, knowing something was amiss. He ran for the forest, snow from heavily laden branches powdering his black coat. He stopped, a pang of dread lancing his heart at the sight that met him.

Elizabeth lay beneath the cedar, her perfect throat slit. Blood ran down her chest, slipping down her waist to the virgin snow below. Her lips, once red as rubies, were now as cold and blue as sapphires. Her raven hair lay fanned against her gown, her beauty bared to the chill winter air. Frost laced her delicate skin, and Jacob knew she was lost.

He staggered to the scene, dropping to his knees beside Elizabeth. Bitter tears fell to gild her frozen form as Jacob covered her body with what remained of her dress. As he wept, he prayed to the only God he had ever known.

A warmth touched his heart, a memory he knew to be Elizabeth; _'Never to part, Jacob my love,' she'd swore to him in sacred blood, 'Lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts.' _The memory passed; a ghost in the morning fog.

"Come back to me!" he cried to the phantom, "I was born in love with thee, Elizabeth. Why should fate stand in between us?"

No answer met his pained cries but the soft sounds of the lake. He gathered his love in his arms, carrying her to the shallow shores of the lake. There he set her into the water, drowning her gentle curves so that Winter could not ravage her grace.

"A free new world indeed," Jacob said in anger, "and yet one cannot love nature as God saw fit!" A glint of metal caught his eye as the sun's light kissed the church bell-tower.

"Damned be their Church," he hissed, "and damned be their courts as well! If it be justice I seek, then by my hand shall these men die."


	3. Putting Reason to Flame Unashamed

Mary, a maid, walked down the morning street. Gossip was rampant in the colony, and Mary stopped by the blacksmith's shop to continue it. "Mornin', Evan," she greeted the strong-built man.

"Mary," he nodded, continuing to work.

"Did you hear about Elizabeth, the Herbalist?"

Evan gave a laugh. "In't she the witch what got herself fucked an' killed?"

The maid blanched at the obscenity, but nodded. "Yes, the very same."

"Well, leastways she got a bit of pleasure before she got what was comin' to her. Preacher's been after her lost soul fer awhile now."

"I would guess that Jacob is quite upset over this; they were to be wed in April."

Evan set his hammer down, getting a drink of water from a barrel. "Well," he said as he hooked the ladle over the rim, "You ask me Jacob's next. Preacher's fears his soul's lost to that temptress of his."

The church bell began to ring, calling the colony to Sunday service.

Sara left the cabin, heading to the church. She saw Jacob returning from the forest and waved to him. "Will you be joining us at service, Jacob?" she asked as he neared, "Perhaps the Lord can offer us guidance in finding Miss Elizabeth."

He caught Sara by her shoulders, a wild look in his eyes. "Flee this pace, Sara," he growled, "do not return- no matter what you hear or see."

"Sir-" the confused girl began.

"I said go!"

As the startled girl ran for the forest, Jacob stormed towards the church, snatching a lantern from outside a home. Service had already begun. The voices of the entire colony- save three- rang out clear on the chill morning air.

The music stopped abruptly as the chapel doors were thrown open with a resounding clap of thunder. "Ah, Jacob," the Reverend said to mask his shock, "Come to join us for salvation?"

Jacob scoffed as he closed the doors, locking them and breaking the lock. "Salvation?" he asked as he walked towards the pulpit, "What salvation was given to Elizabeth as she lay dying?"

"Jacob, I have ever sought grace for your betrothed-"

"Fuck your grace!" Jacob roared as he palmed the pulpit, the priest falling over his chair in shock.

Evan, the blacksmith stood, his fists balled in anger. "How dare you bring that blasphemy into the house of God," he said threateningly.

Jacob laughed. "This 'House of God'? How dare you bring yours into hers!" he accused. "A child of Nature, Elizabeth was nothing more. The woods are where her god lived, and there she was raped and murdered!"

A voice called out from the congregation, "She was a witch!"

"She deserved to burn!"

Jacob eyed the crowd, "Did she?" he asked quietly as he lit the lantern with a candle, "Then so shall we all, for what soul has not felt the sting of sin?"

Evan stepped towards the grieved man. "I'll not let you harm these God-fearing people with your vengeance!"

"Fear not God," Jacob said darkly, "Fear me!" He swung the lantern at Evan. Glass shattered across the man's skull, oil and fire spreading quickly. The congregation panicked, running to the doors only to find them firmly locked. They were trapped. Evan writhed, screeching on the floor as he was enveloped in flames.

"This is devilry!" the priest cried, "You will burn forever in Hell for this wickedness!"

Jacob grabbed the old man by the collar, lifting him to his feet. "Then perhaps Satan will put us on the same circle, old man," he taunted, "Unless your Hell is naught but a fucking lie! Ever you preach of God and His infinite love; then you burn good people of a different faith. Where was your God's infinite fucking love for Her!

"I only see it fitting that you suffer the same fate your victims have, priest. Burn in your Hell!" He cast the old man onto Evan's burning corpse, watching without emotion as he burst into flames.

Fire consumed the entire chapel and all those within. They clawed at the unyielding doors even as they burned, the oak being held by an outside force. _Now they see, _Jacob thought_, Now they know your pain, my love._

In the center of the inferno Elizabeth appeared, as beautiful as when they first met. _'Never to part,' _she said to Jacob, holding a hand out to him.

He walked to her, the flames dancing around his feet. He reached out tentatively, touching her hand. Jacob pulled her to him, wrapping her in an embrace such as they'd never shared.

She was real, alive, and with him again. He kissed her, long and sweet, his fingers running through her hair of silk-spun Midnight. They remained embraced while other lovers burned and rotted; a fading memory in time.

The chapel had burned to the ground not a soul escaping the blaze. It had taken much of the colony with it, leaving only skeletons of the shops and homes. Sara wandered the ruins, lost for a reason as to why her home was gone. At the edge of the woods, the servant girl swore she saw Jacob and Elizabeth, but the phantoms passed with the wind.

Their ghosts in the fog.


End file.
